


the dark archer

by ssolicity (buchanstan)



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 13:03:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4349852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buchanstan/pseuds/ssolicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dark Archer is back in Starling. Like father, like son, I guess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the dark archer

_Pit pat, pit pat._  
When he first arrived in Starling, a place where he had not been for over three years, it was barely drizzling. He barely recognized it, despite the fact that this was the place he called home for almost three decades. 

_Pit pat, pit pat._  
He slowly made his way to one of his father's old safe houses, nestled deep into one of the more abandoned areas in the glades. By the time he got there, his stolen motorcycle's growl was becoming less and less noticeable in the midst of the coming storm. He was also mostly drenched. Luckily, his dark hood offered some protection against the rain. 

_Pit pat, pit pat._  
He dumped his bag with most of his gear at the safe house, and scoured the building from top to bottom, just to make sure it remained as secure as promised. Other than a small leak in the roof that he quickly assessed as harmless (mold wasn't exactly his biggest concern), he found the house to be satisfactory. He placed a dirty bucket he found under the leak and otherwise ignored the dripping roof. 

_Drip drop, drip drop._  
He could feel himself getting restless. Digging into his bag, he removed his most prized possessions: his bow and arrow. He had made them himself, because that's the mark of a good archer: know your weapons. He inspected them, pulling the bow back to hear the string tighten satisfyingly, and checking to make sure each of the arrows were as sharp as possible. Apparently they passed the test, because he gathered them all up, put the arrows in a quiver, and slung the quiver and bow across his back before slipping out the back door. They would just be for insurance anyway; there would be no shooting tonight. 

_Pit pat, pit pat._  
The sound of his footsteps were well-masked that night. The rain came down, harder than ever, as he made his way to his destination. It was a rooftop, strategically very convenient, and it would be very helpful in his mission to come. As he scuttled across the rooftop, he noticed the rain letting up. Must be the eye of the storm. 

He took out his binoculars and aimed them toward an apartment building across the street. It was a very nice building, and at this time of night, not many people were awake. However, he could see a faint light coming from a particular window, and two figures moving in unison. A while later, it went dark. 

They must have gone to sleep. He hoped they sleep well tonight, since they wouldn't have many more of these nights if he did his job right. After all, they were only in the eye of the storm. 

\---

Oliver groaned as he woke up, covering his eyes from the blinding sun that came in through his window that morning. He had had a very nice night of sleep, after spending some very nice time with Felicity, of course. 

He turned his head and patted the other side of the bed, where he could usually find a very blonde head of hair. Today, it was empty, the covers thrown carelessly back. Oliver leaned over the side of the bed and peered at the floor. Oh, good, her panda slippers were gone--that must mean she's gotten up already. Still bleary-eyed, he squinted at the clock at his bedside table: it was 7:32 AM. What on earth was she doing at this time on a Saturday morning? 

Oliver sighed and threw his covers back. He lay in bed for a moment and stretched, before sprightly hopping out of bed.

"Felicity?" He called out questioningly.

He walked downstairs to the kitchen, where he was bombarded by the overwhelming scent of eggs and bacon. Felicity was standing at the stove, poking at a pile of seemingly overcooked breakfast food in a frying pan. He looked at her quizzically. 

"Felicity, what are you doing?"

She yelped and turned around a little too quickly, knocking the pan askew on the stovetop. Apparently, she hadn't heard him come down the stairs. He could be (unsurprisingly) very stealthy. 

"Oh god, Oliver, I don't think I'm doing this right."

He chuckled and walked up to her. Placing her head between his hands, he leaned in for a morning kiss. 

"What." Kiss. "Are." Kiss. "You." Kiss. "Doing."

A little affronted, Felicity pushed him away halfheartedly. 

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm making breakfast. I swear I did everything just like you usually do, but I think something's a little off…"

Oliver winced and turned off the stove. After a quick assessment of the damaged goods, he decided it was going to be a lost cause. Holding up a piece of half-limp and half-burnt bacon, he cast a very meaningful look at his girlfriend. 

"Well, I agree with you there…"

"Hey! If this is what happens when I try to do something nice, I guess next time I'll just leave it up to you… Mr. _Queen_ …" She succumbed to his bemused one-eyebrow-raised face, allowing herself to crack a smile. 

"Okay, but my question is, why did you suddenly decide to do something… Nice… _Today_? You've been eating my cooking for a year now, are you starting to get bored?"

Felicity stared at him for a moment. "Yes, Oliver, a whole year now. One year. Exactly. In fact, on this very-"

"Oh."

"Yup."

He looked away, a little sheepishly. "Sorry."

Felicity grinned, and patted his cheek gently. "I think I'll cut you some slack, considering how many anniversaries we could possibly have. Like, that day we met when you came to the IT department asking for help. Or maybe, that day I found you half-dead in the backseat of my car and finally realized who you actually were. Or even, the day of our first date, which was especially memorable, considering the restaurant blew up before we could even order our food. I'm sure our wedding annivers-" She stopped suddenly, her eyes going wide. 

Oliver's response was only to nestle her further into his chest. "Yes, you were saying, our wedding anniversary?"

She cleared her throat. "The point being, Oliver, that it's not that big of a deal. I just wanted to do something nice."

"Hmm. How about, to make up for forgetting about this one of our many anniversaries, I will make breakfast, while you take a quick shower?"

"I think I can get behind that idea." Felicity grinned and kissed her boyfriend again (it's been a year, and she still relished in saying that, Oliver Queen is my _boyfriend_ ). "I'll leave you to it, then."

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is, as always, much appreciated!
> 
> I just really want Tommy to be alive.


End file.
